In my life there are hundreds of people, from around the world, in different industries, in different economic backgrounds, that are hoping that I survive these mental health issues that are trying to kill me.
This is a catch 22 for me, because on one hand it feels really good to be loved, but on the other hand it’s incredibly stressful because I feel like when I have bad days, I might be disappointing the people that are trying to help push me forward.
The fact that I feel so pressured to heal, is not your fault. It’s a result of the fact that I put pressure on myself, and the fact that I want to make you happy, but I want you to know that I am trying.
Some days I go from feeling perfectly fine and happy, to wanting to commit suicide in thirty seconds, and other days I am just physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted, but I am trying.
Every day is a surprise, because I never know if today is the day that I am going to go from thinking about death, to actually calling death to take me. Every day is a struggle because I want so desperately to prove to the world that I don’t need help, while simultaniously screaming at God for not giving me what I need to survive.
I am bitter, I am built with bitterness into my bones, and that comes from being abused, and having no one noticed for so many years. Neglected is not a word that I use often, but it’s a word that fits the childhood version of myself desperately seeking attention, because the entire world spent a life time ignoring her.
There is a lot of physical labor that comes with healing from emotional and spiritual trauma, and on the outside people wonder why you just can’t get over it all, and the truth of it is that mental health issues can be all consuming.
Sometimes after a day of doing serious trauma work, it can feel like you’ve run a hundred mile marathon in sixty-minutes, and you’re left feeling breathless and out of control.
People on the outside wonder often why it is that you can’t see the world the way that they do, why does everything have to be so complicated? and it’s honestly because while you’re focusing on A, we’re focusing on A,B,C,D,E,F,G,X,Y and Z.
Our brains are consuming all kinds of information when we’re with you in public, or even in private, while you’re having a conversation about dinner, we’re thinking about the thirty ways someone might break in and kill us.
While you’re focused on what outfit to wear, we’re wondering what outfit to wear that will protect us from being touched or assaulted against our will.
Everything about ourselves, our life, and our existence, goes from “let’s go out and have a good time,” to “how can I keep myself safe, while hiding the fact that inside I am dying and I just want to sleep until I die.”
We try to hide this because we want you a part of our lives, and we want to be a part of yours, but a lot of our life is spent doing what we call “masking.”
We’re masking our pain, our habits, our fears, our anxiety, our depression, and we put so much pressure on ourselves to heal and to grow stronger, so that you can see us as someone as worthy of being in your life.
So the next time that you decide to judge us for not healing fast enough, please take a moment to think about the fact that every single day that we’re alive, for some of us, is a living fucking hell from which there is no escape.
We don’t get moments of peace, because the moment that we feel the sensation of peace coming around, someone or something disrupts that peace just to test how strong our resolve is. We are forever being tested by our own emotions, our own capabilities, and then on top of that we have everyone else around us trying to tell us that it’s still not good enough, because it’s not the way that you would do it.
I can’t be you, I can’t even hope to be you. You are the kind of amazing that gives me hope, that has taught me to spread my wings and try to fly on my own, but I can’t be you.
I have dreams where I imagine that I am falling or jumping off a building, but before I can even try to spread my wings, someone always interrupts and catches me before I’ve floated three feet off the high roof. In my head whoever it is thinks they are saving me, but in MY head, all I see is someone whose refusing to let me try to fly on my own.
Live or die I have to do things on my terms, I have to life my life my way, I have to float or fly or fall and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. What I need from you is to hold my hand and let me know that you’ll be there when I need you, and back off when I don’t.
When your child falls off a bike, you pick them up, dust them off, and tell them to do it again, and then you make them practice over and over and over again until they stop falling.
I know it looks like I am falling a lot, but eventually I am going to get it right, if you’ll just give me enough room to try.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall